


champagne problems

by jarrow



Series: Team Sparia QPR [3]
Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aromantic, Aromantic Aria Montgomery, Aromantic Asexual Spencer Hastings, Asexual Character, Best Friends, Drunkenness, Gen, Humor, Queerplatonic Relationships, Team Sparia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28663893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarrow/pseuds/jarrow
Summary: A re-imagining of PLL where Spencer is aromantic asexual and Aria is aromantic. Two best friends living together and generally being a mess on New Year's Eve.
Relationships: Spencer Hastings & Aria Montgomery
Series: Team Sparia QPR [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2088741
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	champagne problems

The familiar sound of keys hitting the counter carried all the way into the bedroom, where Aria was sure she was dying.

 _“Hey.”_ Spencer’s voice echoed from the entryway as she took off her shoes, but Aria didn’t respond. _“How’re you feeling?”_

“Nnnnnnnnnnn,” she moaned into her pillow. Her head was cocked at a strange angle, not entirely face-down into the pillow—she did have to breathe—but enough that any sound she made wouldn’t travel far. 

_“I picked us up some din—_ whoa!” Spencer came to a halt in the doorway and observed the scene with fear in her eyes. “You look like...something.”

Aria’s body was tangled up in the blankets, back arched and hair an absolute sprawling mess, with her face mostly out of view, presumably to block out the last of the sunlight creeping through the curtains. Beside her pillow, what could only be described as a mountain of used tissues lorded over the room. Spencer worried it might come alive at any moment and smother Aria in her sleep. At the very least it must’ve been a fire hazard. She didn’t even think they had that many tissues in the house to begin with.

_“Nnnnnnnn.”_

“Do you need anything?” Spencer asked. “Some juice? Or more Kleenex? I think we could get some more exported in. Since you used up all the ones in London.”

“Nnnnnnnn.” Aria didn’t open her eyes, but she finally summoned the strength to speak, albeit a weak mumble. “I was sleeping.”

Spencer winced. She’d been afraid of that. “I’m sorry.” But a peace offering might foster forgiveness. “I brought pad thai.”

“Nnn nnn. No food.”

“Okay. I’ll go put it in the fridge. Just let me know when you’re hungry.”

“Water?” Aria asked.

“Water? Yeah, of course.”

Spencer crossed the living room to the kitchen and put the dinner away, then took out a light plastic cup from the top shelf in the cabinet—one that Aria wouldn’t have trouble lifting in her weakened state. She let the sink water run cold and filled it halfway, then grabbed some saltine crackers out of the pantry for good measure. 

She hated seeing her best friend in this state. It wasn’t any serious illness—they were sure of that—just the one-two punch of a chest cold on top of period cramps. Spencer heard her coughing in the night and hoped she’d feel better by now, but little progress seemed to have been made (except on their tissue supply). Spencer added it to the grocery list on the fridge and snagged the last box from the linen closet on her way back to Aria’s room.

Quietly, she navigated the piles of laundry, shoes, and books on Aria’s floor and set the sundries down on her nightstand beside her. Aria was always the messier one, but being sick had given her extra reason to be lazy in self-care, understandably. Picking up one of the discarded novels, Spencer used it to usher the tissue mountain into the small trash can beside the bed, filling it most of the way. 

“What time is it?” Aria asked, turning her face toward fresh air and squinting at the light coming from down the hall.

“A little after six-thirty.” 

Spencer gathered up the laundry from the floor and put it in the basket in Aria’s closet, then moved four pairs of shoes out of the walking path. She wouldn’t be able to do a full and thorough cleaning without turning on more light or making too much noise, but at least this way Aria wouldn’t trip and break something on her next trip to the bathroom. Spencer’s days of cleaning blood out of carpet were long behind her. Plus, it was just a bummer.

“Water’s right there,” Spencer said as she placed the final pair of boots by the closet door. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Thank you.” Aria reached over to take a small sip, then pulled the puffy white comforter back over most of her face with a deep cough.

“You bet.”

Spencer headed back into the hallway and opened her bedroom door as quietly as the squeaky hinges would allow. She never knew why they did that; everything in the apartment was brand new, freshly renovated by the owner to compete with neighboring buildings. The only reason they were able to get such a posh place in their price range was because of its proximity to Victoria Station. The noise bothered Aria less than it did Spencer, but only because Aria was such a romantic about big cities. (The people in them, less so.) Spencer was a deep enough sleeper now that A was safely locked away; it was fine. She was just glad they could afford something inside London’s city limits without compromising comfort or style. It was dreadfully small for a two-bedroom, but it was quite charming, and most importantly, it was theirs. 

In a matter of minutes Spencer had changed out of her work attire and into her favorite flannel pajama pants and a white undershirt. She carefully put everything in its place—her earrings in her jewelry box, her heels from the front door onto her shoe rack, her outfit on its hanger. She double-checked that her phone was on vibrate, so as to not disturb Aria, and slid it into her pocket. Curiously, it buzzed almost right away, and she withdrew it again. It was Hanna.

H (6:38 PM): **_Skype later?_**

S (6:38 PM): **_Maybe? I need to see how Aria feels, she’s been sick. But at the very least I can say a quick hi, sure_**

H (6:39 PM): **_Ok let me know_**

Spencer grabbed her favorite pillow, then picked her laptop up off the desk, taking the charge cable with it, and found a pair of earbuds in her top drawer. One of the high-numbered sports channels was streaming an all-night poker tournament broadcast, and that sounded like the perfect reward for having suffered four back-to-back work meetings today. The more she watched, the more ready she felt to try her own luck in Vegas soon.

Aria’s comforter was the loud, crinkly kind, but Spencer set down her accessories as quietly as she could and got herself situated on the empty side of Aria’s bed. It was just a double, barely big enough for both of them to share, but they made it work in times like these. As Spencer slid her legs under the blanket, Aria adjusted her position to make room, curling up tighter but leaving her feet resting against Spencer’s knee. It reminded Spencer that Aria always slept with socks on, which she never understood, but the softness was admittedly nice.

Spencer got herself set up (using only one earbud in case Aria needed anything) and was pleased to see the tournament hadn’t been underway for more than an hour. She reached over and rested her arm on the pillows to run her fingernails through Aria’s hair while she watched round three. Spencer always loved when her mother would do this for her when she was sick, and she wanted to help ease the discomfort any way she could. Besides, it felt good being able to take care of someone, especially someone so important to her. It was nice to be needed, her presence wanted, and like her actions made a positive impact. Spencer’s professional work was so impersonal, so calculated and all about the bottom line. But here at home, she acted out of love and caring—no soulless budgets to trim, no razor-thin margins to consider, no pointless reports to file. Spencer tucked Aria’s hair behind her ear, absently retracing the path a few times with her index finger and she considered the three-bet raise taking place.

Aria hummed in gratitude before falling back asleep, and Spencer smiled. 

*********

Several hours later, around nine, Aria finally stirred. She stretched as largely as her small frame allowed, reaching diagonally across the bed and up toward the wall behind her with a giant yawn, then turned over on her side to face Spencer. 

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Spencer said.

“Who’s winning?”

“It’s still early. I think they’re down to five tables.”

Wiping the sleep from her eyes, Aria also checked for drool on her chin and wiped away a noticeable trail. “How long was I out?”

“A while. I think it’s nine.”

“Geez,” Aria sighed, then she paused to do a quick inventory. One of her airways was still clogged, but her headache had lessened significantly. “I think my uterus finally stopped clawing its way out.” A horrible thought occurred to her. “...or it was successful.”

Spencer pictured that scene from Alien and made a face. “Ew. Give me a heads up to leave the room if that becomes a possibility.”

“What if it’s got a little hat and cane like in Spaceballs?”

“Doesn’t make it better,” Spencer insisted. “Do you want some ibuprofen?”

Slowly, Aria pulled herself upright, straightening her pillow against the wall. “No, I think I’m okay. But I think I can finally eat something.”

“Hey, that’s progress.” Spencer set down the laptop. “I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you!”

Five minutes later, Spencer returned with two plates of piping hot pad thai (chopsticks for her, a fork for Aria). “Dinner is served.”

Aria set down her water glass and reached for the plate. “You’re a god.”

“The god of pad thai,” she said, sitting back down. “One of the more specific superpowers.”

“And yet, delightfully convenient.”

“Oh hey.” Spencer spoke in broken phrases between bites of deliciousness. “Hanna wanted to know if we were up for a Skype call tonight. I told her I’d see how you felt.”

Aria hummed around the food she was chewing, then swallowed and replied properly. “I don’t know? Did she say what time?”

“No, but it’s still really early there.”

“Oh yeah. I’m still not used to that.” Aria took another bite and then handed the plate back to Spencer. “Can you set this down? I think I need to pace myself.”

“Yeah,” she said, putting the plate on the empty nightstand beside her. “And if you’re feeling adventurous...I may have also gotten us some champagne?”

Aria puffed out her cheeks and slid back under the covers. “I admire your optimism, but I don’t think dehydration and a hangover is gonna help me.”

“We could mix it with Nyquil,” Spencer offered, and received the look she deserved. “Yeah, I regretted it as soon as I said it.”

“You should have some, though. No Nyquil.”

Spencer was insulted at the very idea. “I’m not so insistent on maintaining holiday traditions that I’d stoop to drinking _alone_. That’s what sad people do.”

“You’re not alone. You’re with me. And you’re drinking, because it’s New Year’s Eve and I refuse to let my impending death ruin your good time.”

“Aria—”

“Nope, it’s decided.” Aria poked her index finger out from a small opening in her covers, pointing at Spencer as she gave her the stink eye of I’m Getting My Way, So Shut Up.

The staring contest lasted a whole ten seconds before Spencer relented. “Fine.” She grabbed the dirty dishes to take to the kitchen with her. “If that’s what’ll make you happy.”

“I win!” Aria peeped from under the covers.

Spencer turned around. “What now?”

“It will,” she said, moving the blanket to be heard more clearly as she backpedaled. “Make me happy. You with the drinking.” A smooth recovery.

Spencer narrowed her eyes suspiciously but didn’t press the point. A glass of bubbly did sound very nice after her long day. “Weirdo.”

As Aria heard Spencer clinking around in the kitchen, she added, “Ooh hey, can you grab the ice cream?”

_“Which one?”_

“Do we have more than one?”

_“There’s a little pistachio left, and the pineapple coconut.”_

“Pistachio, please!”

Aria settled back in with a smile and grabbed a novel off her nightstand. She was eight chapters into it and couldn’t tell if she wasn’t enjoying the book or if fantasy just wasn’t her genre. But she had the rest of the year to figure that out, she mused—what little remained of it, anyway. Reaching to her right, she grabbed the pull-chain to click on her reading lamp and thumbed through to her bookmark on page ninety-one.

A minute later, Spencer returned with a large mixing bowl that had a green glass bottle tilted to one side and two small round containers beside it at opposite angles. When she set the bowl on the bed, Aria could see a perimeter of blue freezer packs tucked in around them. 

“Clever _and_ resourceful,” she nodded. “How very Spencer Hastings of you.”

“Yeah, well, it turns out we don’t actually have any ice,” Spencer said, handing her a spoon. “I had to get creative.”

“No, it’s good. Less melting everywhere.”

Spencer got back under the covers and peeled the protective plastic off the pineapple coconut Haagen Dazs. “Should we have ice?” Spencer wondered aloud. “Isn’t that a thing that adult people have in their homes? I feel like it is.” They were twenty-one now and old enough to ask these important questions.

“Mm,” Aria hummed in agreement as she took her first bite of pistachio goodness. “Grown-ups do have ice.”

Spencer’s face fell a bit as her mind wandered back to the kitchen. “And more than one frying pan.”

“I don’t think we have room for more in that tiny-ass kitchen,” Aria noted.

“Or a crock pot.” Spencer took another bite and spoke with her mouth full. “Grown-ups have crock pots.”

“I can get you a crock pot!”

Spencer’s face perked up, and she turned with joy in her eyes (and a spoon in her mouth).

Then Aria finished her thought. “Your birthday’s only ten months away.”

Removing the spoon, Spencer said, “That was cold, Montgomery.”

Aria took another bite unapologetically. “Adulthood is cruel.”

Spencer kept thinking. “Maybe we need an electric mixer. And a vacuum cleaner. Oh, and toothpicks with those little colored plastic flags.”

“And cutting boards.”

Spencer turned. “We have a cutting board.”

“Nn nn,” Aria shook her head and slowly pulled the spoon out of her mouth. 

“I brought the red plastic one that I stole from the dorm.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.”

Aria frowned. “Where is it?”

“In our kitchen??”

“I haven’t seen it since we left the States.”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Then how have you been chopping things all this time?” One of the perks of living with Aria was that she caught the cooking bug in college and prepared delicious vegetarian entrees several times a week. Spencer, meanwhile, had a most impressive collection of takeout menus.

Aria withdrew the spoon again and punctuated the air with her confession. “I may have been using one of your old textbooks.”

Spencer balked, “Wha—Which one?!”

“That one you keep bringing with you every time we move even though I’ve never seen you read it. The yellow one with all the wheels on it.”

“ _A Textbook of Modern European History_?! That’s my favorite!”

“Sorry!” Aria averted eye contact and shoved more ice cream into her face. Tragically, she was almost out. “I’ll get us a real cutting board soon.”

“Yes, you will.” Spencer finished two more bites before adding, “You should also get some thumbtacks.”

“Adults have thumbtacks,” she agreed.

Spencer poked at a chunk of pineapple with her spoon. “And then I won’t have to use your earrings on my bulletin board anymore.”

“Hey!”

“They’re just so much prettier than the thick plastic plug things! I couldn’t help myself.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Aria finished the last bit of ice cream in the container and tossed it into the trash can. Then, after a moment of stillness, she moved quickly to rub her spoon against Spencer’s sleeved arm before she could pull away, like a sibling starting a war in the back of a van on a road trip. The spoon was dry but still effective.

“Ew! Aria!” Spencer shouted as she tried to push it away without touching it. “That’s disgusting!” She managed to grab Aria’s wrist and fend off the attack, causing the tired, weaker contender to surrender and lie back down, laughing at her own immaturity.

“You’re the one sitting where all my snotty tissues were,” she noted.

That was, unfortunately, true, but Spencer tried very hard not to think about it. “I can go to my own room,” she threatened.

“I thought you didn’t want to drink alone.”

“Who’s drinking? Not me!” Spencer put up both her hands, trying not to laugh as she overdramatized the situation. She always loved bantering with Aria; it drew them close together early on and only tightened their bond as they grew more in sync over time. “I only drink in ice cube households.”

“Oh really.”

“Yes, because I have standards and class.”

Now Aria was the one trying not to laugh, but she recovered. “Hope it’s not a European History class, because your textbook is covered in beet stains.”

“Too soon,” Spencer said gravely.

“Sorry.” Aria reached for the champagne bottle and popped it open as a peace offering. “Here.” She found the empty glass tucked in between two freezer packs and filled it almost to the brim with £20 Brut. “This looks good,” she said, examining the label. “Where’d you get it?”

“The bottle shop next to the café. The pickings were a bit slim by the time I got there, but you know me and German alcohol—I’m easy.”

“Standards and class, huh,” Aria ribbed.

“All the way.” Spencer clinked her glass against the bottle still in Aria’s hand, and took a sip. Suddenly, her expression dropped and her eyes widened.

“That bad?” Aria glanced at the label again, presumably to search for a poison symbol.

Spencer instinctively moved the glass an inch further away from Aria. “No, that _good_. This might become a problem.”

“I think deliciousness sounds like a good problem to have. I’m glad you like it.”

“And _I’m_ glad you’re not having any.” Spencer held the glass protectively against her chest. “More for me.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not sharing the Nyquil. Even if you are my favorite. So, we’re even.”

Spencer took a long sip and closed her eyes at how goddamn refreshing it was. “I really am, aren’t I?”

Aria almost didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. “Most of the time.” She grabbed a tissue from the new box Spencer brought and blew her nose hard.

Looking around the room, Spencer took another long sip and reflected for a moment on how far they’d come. “I’m so glad we got this roommate thing figured out.” 

Aria settled back into bed and pulled the covers up tightly under her chin, making sure she could still see Spencer. “Beats paying to live alone.”

“Or dealing with a nightmare like Marti.” Spencer finished the glass and poured herself a second. Thinking too long about her freshman roommate at Georgetown would drive her into madness. _“Never_ again. Do you hear me? No more drying shoes on the heater vent, no more yelling out the window at frat guys at two in the morning, no more goddamn Ace of Base alarm music.”

“All that she wanted was another baby, Spencer.”

“Don’t fucking remind me,” she sighed. “Remember when her grandmother came to visit and used MY bed for a week?! I had to wash the sheets, like, three times just to get the old grandma smell out. Get a goddamn hotel room! Or give her YOUR bed! She’s YOUR grandmother!”

“God, I forgot about that. What a piece of work.” What Aria remembered most were Spencer’s endless text rants about how she was going to throw Marti out the nearest window.

“Did I tell you she once borrowed my scissors to trim her pubes?”

“WHAT?” Aria sat up enough to prop herself up on her elbow. “You’re kidding.”

“Oh, believe me, I wish.”

“Not the green scissors in the kitchen…”

“No! Aria, please. I threw them away years ago. It’s too bad I couldn’t burn them.”

“You didn’t...walk in on her,” Aria asks nervously.

“No, thankfully, because I’d be blind right now. Let’s just say she left some...evidence behind, stuck to the blade.”

Aria covered her face with her hands, letting out a little scream. _“Nooooo.”_

“I may have lost my mind and bleached our entire dorm room.”

Aria dropped her hands and stared in disbelief. “I think I would’ve burned the place to the ground. Just start over fresh.”

“Yeah, well, a few days later I stepped in something gross outside…” She tilted the glass closer to her mouth, “...and I may have used her toothbrush to scrub my shoe.” Spencer took another mouthful of champagne and almost choked on it when Aria smacked her in the shoulder. 

“Spencer!”

“What! I cleaned it afterward, which is more than she did for me. Don’t start a war you can’t finish.”

“Yeah, clearly.” Aria moved her elbow out of the way so she could lie directly on her side, but she couldn’t get comfortable. “I never know where to put my arms when I’m sleeping.” She tried tucking her left arm under her pillow, then under her boob, then extended it in front of her. “They’re just always in the way.”

Spencer watched Aria fidget and struggle as she sipped from her glass, choosing not to engage—Aria would need to solve this lifelong problem for herself.

Eventually, Aria flopped onto her back, giving up. “Stupid arms.”

“They should be detachable,” Spencer agreed.

Aria considered that for a moment. “Just one, though.”

Spencer topped off her glass and arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

“If you take one off, how would you get the other one off? And how would you get them both back _on_ if you don’t have any hands _?_ And what if you have to pee? Or turn off your alarm?”

Spencer’s mind filled with a visual of an arm-less Aria flopping around, and she couldn’t help but laugh. Though, it was probably the alcohol’s fault. “Why are we even talking about this?”

“I don’t know! You started it!”

“I most definitely did not,” Spencer said.

“You most definitely did. Are you already too drunk to remember what you just said?”

“No! I’ve only had _one_ glass—”

“Three glasses,” Aria corrected.

 _“Three_ glasses of champagne. I’m not drunk, I’m...lively.” Spencer’s eyes fell closed as she laughed, and her body started leaning over, so much so that Aria caught her with a hand and pushed her back upright.

Smiling, Aria revisited the theme of the evening. “Ah yes, there’re those standards and class again.”

“STANDARDS AND CLASS!” Spencer shouted and hoisted her glass high in a toast to her own good fortune, splashing a bit of precious Brut on the bedspread. “Oh no!” Reaching into the bucket right away, she grabbed a blue freezer pack and put it on top of the round, golden splotch. If anything, the spot was much wetter now.

“What are you doing!” Aria smacked Spencer’s hand out of the way and moved the block aside to blot the fabric with a wad of tissues. “Freezing it out?”

“To keep the stain from setting!” Spencer explained, as if that made all the sense in the world.

“Yeah, that’s not how that works.” Aria dabbed and pressed and did the best she could with it for now. “It’s fine. I’ll wash it tomorrow. Probably need to burn all the germs out of this thing, anyway.”

“Like in _The Velveteen Rabbit_ ,” Spencer agreed, finishing what was left in the glass.

“Aww, I loved that book. The scarlet fever part used to scare me, but I like all the stuff about the toys becoming real.”

Spencer ran a hand through her hair and fell against her pillow, squinting in concentration. “But the rabbit turned _real_ real, right?”

“Yeah, but first he was just real to the boy,” Aria said. “And that was good enough for him.”

“Like us—you and me.” When Aria furrowed her brow, Spencer elaborated. “This is real. _We’re_ real, to each other.”

“Yeah,” she said, hesitantly. “Wh—”

“You’re real and I’m real and this _friendship_ is real,” Spencer continued. “We’re _soulmates._ ” She pointed back and forth between Aria and herself four times. “And the rest of the world may not get it, but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is us.” It was fairly eloquent, considering how tipsy she’d become. Spencer smiled and took another sip of champagne, marking the end of her speech.

Aria’s expression softened and she smiled warmly back. “Yes, this is very real and very important.” She reached out to place a hand on Spencer’s forearm. “And you mean the world to me, too.”

“You’re my best friend!” Spencer announced, breaking free of the gentle hold to press a finger into Aria’s shoulder. “The _best_. And my friend.”

“Okay,” Aria said, reaching for the glass, “I think you’ve had enough of this for tonight.”

“Noooo!” Spencer pulled it away just in time, downed the rest of it, and presented the glass again. “See? Empty.”

“Yes, that made it much better.”

“No, _this_ makes it better.” She poured yet another glass, predictably, and set the near-empty bottle back down. 

“Remember what I said about my dinner? The same advice you used to give people in SAT prep?” Aria said.

Spencer’s brow furrowed. Her tutoring days felt like a lifetime ago. “Bring an extra pencil?”

“No, p—”

“OH!” Spencer grinned devilishly. “Wear a revealing top.”

“Wh—Did you really say that to people?”

Her grin dropped to faux seriousness. “Only the boys.”

Aria sighed. This was going to be a long night. _“Pace yourself_ , you nutjob. Time for some water.”

That wasn’t going to happen. “I was saying something important, what was I saying?” Spencer slurred without a pause. 

Despite her better angels, Aria had to admit, this was getting pretty entertaining. She blew her nose again and decided to just ride out this evening show. “That I’m your best friend.”

“YOU’RE MY BEST FRIEND,” Spencer blurted, pointing again. “And people don’t get it, you know? They’re like ‘oh, so you’re roommates’ or ‘oh cool, you knew each other in high school’ but they don’t _GET IT_.”

“Nope,” Aria agreed, but Spencer was too wrapped up in her monologue to notice.

“They don’t know what we’ve _BEEN_ through.”

“Hopefully not.”

Spencer’s eyes managed to focus on Aria’s for a moment, and she stared her down hard. “They don’t know what it means to love someone as much as I love you.”

Aria couldn’t help but sheepishly smile; it was just too sweet. “And I love you, too, drunky monkey.”

“More than _anyone_ ,” Spencer insisted.

“More than anyone.”

Her eyes widened. “But don’t tell Hanna.”

“I won’t,” Aria agreed.

The alcohol had really taken hold now. “I just feel like it would hurt her feelings.”

“Definitely. Hundred percent.” 

“And we don’t need to do that!” Spencer was almost too caught up in her own thoughts to drink more, then remembered she had the glass in her hand.

“We probably shouldn’t tell Emily and Ali, either,” Aria added. She was fully invested in this hilariously sincere conversation now.

Spencer considered this with squinty eyes. “I mean...I think they probably already know?” 

“We don’t exactly hide it.”

“No,” Spencer said solemnly, shaking her head as the truth hit her like a ton of bricks. “We really don’t.”

“But it’s okay because they’re happy for us! They’re excited you got the job here, and that I was able to come with you, and that we found a great place near your sister, and—”

“SHE doesn’t understand us,” Spencer cut in.

“Yeah, well, she’s never been single a day in her life and doesn’t understand why anyone would choose to be.”

Spencer raised her eyebrows as she took another sip. “She thinks we’re lesbians.”

“What, just because every other girl in Rosewood turned out to be? That’s original.”

“She thinks we’re lying to everyone because I’m too afraid to come out to my parents as a homosexual.” It sounded even funnier in Spencer’s slowed-down tipsy voice. “Apparently, if two girls live together, they must be doing the sex. So says the great Melissa Hastings.”

“And here I thought she was supposed to be the brains of the family,” Aria said, rolling her eyes a bit.

“Hey!”

“Sorry.”

Spencer shrugged it off. “I think it’s kind of funny, actually. She probably thinks the five of us were all gay together back in high school.”

“God, can you imagine? As if we weren’t already obsessed enough with each other.”

“Right? Dramarama-rama.”

Aria considered an idea. “But if you wanna mess with Melissa the next time she comes over, I’m happy to flirt with you or whatever. I could make her super uncomfortable around my overtly lesbian advances, and then maybe she’ll leave you alone about it.”

“Oh my GOD, I would die,” Spencer said. “But it wouldn’t work because I don’t think I could take you seriously.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Aria said through a coughing spell that continued for ten more seconds. She reached for her glass of water and finished it, then blew her nose. “Gahh, I hate this.”

“Do you think it’s getting worse?”

“No. My body’s just angry I’m awake.”

“You should be sleeping!” It was true, yet Spencer made no motion to leave. Instead, she poured what remained from the champagne bottle into her glass.

“Yeah, well, you should be out having an amazing night,” Aria said, “not stuck here in Germ Land with me.”

“I wasn’t gonna just leave you here by yourself!” The very notion was an affront to her dignity. “That’s not what best friends do.”

“It’s a sweet thought,” Aria said, “but really, you should call up your friends and go celebrate.”

“Who would I call? It’s like two in the morning.”

“It’s ten o’clock, and I promise they’re all still awake.” Aria checked the notifications on her phone but found nothing interesting. “What time did Hanna say she wanted to Skype?”

Spencer had completely forgotten. “I don’t know. Can you text her?”

“Yeah, one sec.”

“Don’t tell her I forgot.”

“Oh, I’m totally telling her.”

“Aria!” She reached for the phone, but Aria turned away with it and stood up, grabbing her empty cup and walking off.

“You should stay in bed! You’re sick!”

“I have to pee, wingnut. And I need more water. You stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Spencer _hmmph_ ed in response but did as she was told. With no more ice cream or booze to consume, she opened her laptop to check on the poker tournament, which had progressed down to 4 tables in the last hour. 

“Can you bring more champagne?” she called out.

_“There’s another one?”_

“Yeah, I got me one and you one.”

_“What possessed you to get me an entire bottle of alcohol? Have you met me?”_

“I was being thoughtful!” Spencer shouted.

Aria finished up in the bathroom and made her way to the kitchen, complying with the request and pouring herself a big glass of water. She grabbed some Goldfish crackers out of the cabinet as well. It was a party, after all.

Returning to her room, she crossed back over to her side of the bed saying, “It’s not too late to call Toni and Lillian. I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

“Ugghh, I see enough of them during the week, I do _not_ need to see them tonight.”

“Or Marcus,” Aria offered. “I bet he knows a fun party happening tonight. Gay guys always the good spots.”

“Stop trying to get rid of me!” Spencer grabbed the unopened bottle from the pile of loot and started on the cap. It was much harder to open than the last one, not for any fault of the bottle. “I’m being here for you like the time I thought I had shingles and you went and got me meds.”

Aria turned with a confused look. “Wait, when did you think you had shingles?!”

Spencer blinked. “Junior year, over winter break. I had that big rash on my leg.” She started to pull down her waistband, but Aria stopped her in time.

“You don’t need to show me, I believe you. But I don’t remember that at all.”

“You bought me meds and made me hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows, and we watched The Bachelor and made fun of everyone!”

“Yeah, that was definitely not me,” Aria said. “I’ve never watched that.”

Spencer’s poor tipsy brain was trying so hard. “You sure?”

“Very sure.”

“Hmm.” Spencer didn’t quite believe her, but the memory was fuzzy enough that she could let it go. “Okay, but there was the time you took me shopping for an outfit before my interview with the partnership.”

“That was Hanna.”

“It was you!”

“It was definitely Hanna. I know because I asked her to help you when I had to bail to drive Mike to the city. And she said the woman who opened the fitting rooms looked just like, quote, ‘Julia Roberts on a dirty coke and tequila bender.’”

Spencer gasped. “It _was_ Hanna!”

“Yep.”

“She found me a nice shirt at that mall store I can’t ever pronounce right.”

Aria nodded. “Yes she did.”

“Bruno Chukolini.”

“Brunello Cucinelli, yes.”

“And she wouldn’t let me buy a blazer,” Spencer complained. 

“Because we both love you very much.”

Spencer sighed again, annoyed. “Then let me thank you for the time you gave me a ride to the school dance so I wouldn’t have to go with my parents.”

Aria huffed, “That was _Ali_. God, do you seriously not remember a single thing I’ve done for you over the last eight years?!”

Spencer spoke into the tilted champagne glass sitting on her grinning lips. “I know, it was just funny.” She giggled and drank half the glass, wincing as Aria threw a Goldfish cracker at her head.

“Asshole,” Aria said. “And I could name at least a dozen things you’ve done for me, you know.”

“Because I’m a _very_ good friend. Way better than Ali.”

“Sometimes,” she mused. “Like the time you knocked my phone into the toilet.”

“That was an accident! And we did the rice thing! Adults have rice, and we had some.”

“Mmhmm,” Aria hummed as she prepared her next point. “Or when you were puking loudly in the background of my video interview for my internship? I know I interview well, so that had to be why I didn’t get it.”

“Oh my god, I had _food poisoning._ From the chicken thing! It’s not like I did that on purpose! And you didn’t even want that internship anyway.”

“Yeah, but it’s nice to be able to turn them down myself, not get rejected because the very memory of me makes them nauseated.”

Spencer narrowed her unfocused eyes and pointed a finger with the hand holding her nearly empty glass. “I did you a _favor_ , short-face.”

That was a new one. “And I guess that means you’re officially drunk. Would you believe it’s not even 10:30?”

Spencer thought about how to best answer that. “It is possible I have consumed multiple beverages.”

Aria’s phone buzzed and lit up with a text notification, which she checked right away. “Hanna says, ‘When is a good time to Skype?’ Should I say now or do you wanna drink some water first?”

A frown. “Water is for babies.”

Aria hummed in disagreement. “No, _milk_ is for babies, and water is for people who don’t want to start a new year hungover.”

“I’ll be fine,” she handwaved.

“Take some ibuprofen before you go to bed. There’s some in my bathroom drawer.”

“I will definitely write that down,” Spencer said and finished another sip. She definitely did not write anything down.

“Okay, I’m telling Hanna we’re free now.” Then, more to herself, she added, “Who knows how much longer you’ll be able to string a complete sentence together.”

“Okey dokey smokey pokey.” Without warning, Spencer pulled her shirt up to remove it, only it got caught on her chin, and it took some work to extricate herself.

“Spencer.”

“What? I’m hot.”

“So, get out from under the blanket. We’re about to be on video.”

“What, with Hanna? She’s seen us all naked a hundred times.” 

“She has?” Aria didn’t think Hanna’d seen her naked even once, but she didn’t press the point further.

Spencer tossed the shirt aside, aiming for Aria’s desk chair and missing by about five feet. “Whoops. Don’t trip on that.”

Aria’s phone buzzed again. “Okay, Hanna says five minutes.” She didn’t want to think about how much drunker Spencer could get in that time. “Can we use your computer? My phone’s running low.”

“Yep!” Spencer leaned forward to grab her laptop down at the foot of the bed, missed, tried again twice, and finally pulled it onto her legs. Opening the lid, it came to life and displayed paused tournament standings in her browser. “Poker!” She immediately refreshed the window to buffer the video.

“No, no!” Aria reached over to grab the machine out of her hands. “No poker for you!”

“But it’s the High Roller Asia Super Pacific Bowl Eastern Championship High Stakes World Series!”

Aria blinked. That didn’t sound right. “Seriously?”

Spencer couldn’t remember exactly what she’d just said, but she knew the title was some of those words and in some order. She stared like a deer in headlights, unsure of what to say. “...Yes.”

“Well, it can wait fifteen minutes while we talk to our friends.” Aria navigated to the Skype program and logged in with her account, then opened the window to test video and sound. “Are you really not gonna put your shirt on?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be SLEEPING?” Spencer countered, pouring yet another round of bubbly goodness. She leaned over and looked at herself onscreen as she came into view of the webcam. Smiling big, she stuck out her tongue and started making faces.

“At least keep your damn glass away from the keyboard,” Aria said, pushing Spencer back over to her side. “You’ll thank me later.”

Spencer ignored this entirely, wrapping her arms around Aria’s shoulders, glass in hand, for a very messy side hug. “You’re so wonderful,” she said, pressing her forehead to the side of Aria’s hair.

Aria watched the reflection of this on the screen with a resigned expression and reached up to pat Spencer on the arm. “You’re wonderful, too,” she said flatly.

“No,” Spencer said, uncomfortably loud by her ear, “you’re _really wonderful_. You’re the best friend.”

Aria took the glass that was tilting precariously by her chest and gently pried it out of Spencer’s hand. “Here, let’s get you some more of this.” But she set it down on the nightstand out of Spencer’s reach instead.

“Your hair smells so nice,” Spencer mused, pressing her whole face into Aria’s hair now. “Hey, is that my shampoo?”

It was, but that was moot. “Okay, invoking personal space now.” Aria took Spencer by the shoulders and turned her to face forward, releasing herself from the embrace.

“It’s got mango in it,” Spencer reminded her, as if Aria would ever forget the day Spencer came home raving about finding this fucking shampoo outside the U.S.

The sudden ringing from the laptop drew both of their attention. 

“Oh, thank god,” Aria muttered and clicked the green button to accept Hanna’s call.

Three seconds later, her smiling face popped into view. “Happy New Year, bitches!” 

“Happy new year!” they both said, Spencer much louder than Aria.

Hanna was wearing a plastic “Happy New Year” tiara and a sparkly gold jacket over her pink top, along with what must’ve been a dozen plastic bead necklaces of various colors. She had a martini glass in hand and a smile like she just won the lottery. Considering it was only six o’clock in New York, she appeared to have already started the party. “Can you guys hear me okay?”

“Yeah!” Spencer practically shouted. “Can you hear us?!”

“Jesus,” Hanna said, laughing. “Are you drunk? Where’s your shirt?”

“Very,” Aria answered for her. “Not me, just Captain Boobs over here.”

“This champagne’s really good!” Spencer held up the nearly empty glass, then decided it would be more prudent to fetch the bottle to show her instead. Because it was so important. “It’s from Germany.”

Hanna smiled. “Good for you, Spence. Make sure you drink some water, okay?”

“I will tomorrow,” she promised, pointlessly.

Aria looked so tired. “You see what I’m stuck here with.”

Spencer poked Aria’s shoulder with alternating index fingers. “Boop, boop, boop, boop, boop.”

Aria just stared at the webcam like she was on _The Office_.

“I am so sorry,” Hanna laughed. “But at least we feel comfortable letting our guards down now, without a crazy stalker waiting to kidnap us or whatever.”

“Yeah, true.” Aria grabbed Spencer’s poking fingers and lowered them, shooting her a look to convey her seriousness, then turned back to Hanna. “Just, maybe next time she’ll go all guard-less when I’m able to join in.”

“Are you still sick?” Hanna asked her.

Spencer leaned in. “No, I’m not sick, but Aria is!”

“Spence,” Aria said quietly to her, “I think she was asking _me_.” She turned back to Hanna. “I called in again yesterday and just laid here coughing for most of it. But I think I’m through the worst of it.”

“That’s good. Take care of yourself, okay?”

Aria’s lips pressed into a grateful smile. “I will. Right now I think I have to take care of this one.” She gestured her head to the left.

Spencer leaned over again. “Hey, where’s Caleb?”

“He’s still at work. I’ll tell him you said hi.”

“He’s working tonight?” Aria asked. “That sucks.”

“Yeah. Hackers don’t take holidays, I guess,” Hanna said. 

Spencer looked at Aria, dead serious. “Maybe they’re Jehovah’s Witnesses.”

Aria turned to meet her eyes, said nothing, and turned back to Hanna. “Well, you’re missing a _great_ time here.”

Hanna smiled, nostalgic for her friends, and said, “I wish I could be there. I need to get my ass on a plane soon. Things have just been crazy here. I’m hoping they’ll calm down by maybe April?”

“Get your ASS on a PLANE!” Spencer insisted, pointing at the camera and leaning in way too close. “Hey, where’d my champagne go?”

“I don’t know,” Aria said innocently, hoping Spencer wouldn’t notice the mostly full glass sitting right behind her. “I think it’s all gone.”

Spencer frowned and thought it over, then found another solution. “Oh well.” She picked up the mostly full bottle, removed the temporary cap, and drank four swallows straight from it.

Aria looked back to Hanna, desperate for normal conversation. “How’s the world of fashion?”

“Messy and complicated,” she said, “and a lot less beautiful than all the fancy gowns would lead you to believe. It’s actually pretty bitchy and back-stabby. But thankfully, I have plenty of experience dealing with that.

“Yeah. Ugh. Thanks, Mona, I guess.”

Hanna didn’t disagree. “How’s writing going?”

“It’s going. I’m still a few chapters from the end, but I think I know the path I’m taking. My heroine’s a mess, but I think she’s just misunderstood.”

Spencer offered some sage wisdom. “Heroin is very bad for you.”

Aria sighed. “Then I just have to find someone who will publish the damn thing.”

“You will,” Hanna said, knowingly. “And things are going okay for the champagne supernova?” She looked toward Spencer.

“Oh yeah,” Aria said. “She just landed a huge new client last week.” Looking to Spencer, she prompted, “Tell her.”

Struggling to keep her eyes open, Spencer slurred, “Their name is Perman and Hills. They’re the third largest investment firm in the second largest sector of the finance market here, which is the fourth largest in Europe and first in the WORLD.” Very little of that was explained correctly, but it sounded fancy all the same.

“Wow,” Hanna chuckled, equally impressed and amused. “Way to go.”

“Thank you,” Spencer nodded. She said, quieter, to Aria, “I think I’m getting sleepy,” and rested her head on Aria’s shoulder.

“Who didn’t see that coming,” Aria deadpanned.

“It’s cool,” Hanna said, “I should eat something before I hit this party.” 

“Yes, dinner is good. Be safe; have a great time. Tell Caleb we say hi,” Aria said.

Eyes still closed, Spencer shouted, “HI CALEB.”

Aria counted back from five quickly in her head. “Thanks for calling. It’s really good to see you.”

“You, too,” Hanna said. “Happy New Year, both of you. Good luck with _that_ ,” she gestured.

“Thanks, you too.” Aria smiled through her fatigue. “Love you.”

“Love you.”

“LOVE YOU,” Spencer called from her sleeping position.

“Bye,” Aria said, then waited for Hanna to wave goodbye before clicking to end the call. Turning to address the hapless lush on her shoulder, she sighed deeply. “You are something else, you know that?”

“No, I’m Spencer.”

“Right now I think you’re about fifty percent Spencer and fifty percent booze, soon to be replaced by fifty percent regret.” Aria gently lifted Spencer’s head and started to push her to slide down flat. “Come on.” 

It didn’t take much effort; Spencer had no energy to fight back. A moment later, she was under the covers, tucked in comfortably on her side with her head on her favorite pillow. Aria pushed the hair out of Spencer’s face and set the cold bucket of goodies on the floor. The remaining half-bottle of champagne would be flat and thrown out in the morning, but that was probably for the best.

Aria coughed a few times, clearing some junk that had settled into her lungs over the last hour. Reflecting on the scene, she asked, “Weren’t you supposed to be taking care of _me?”_

“I am taking care of you,” Spencer whispered, eyes still closed. 

“Okay.” 

Aria readjusted her pillow and blew her nose again before settling in next to Spencer, opting to lie on her back so she didn’t breathe whatever germs she may still have onto her sleeping roommate. “Do you want me to turn the light off?” She could read for twenty minutes, if Spencer didn’t mind.

“S’fine,” Spencer mumbled, which wasn’t a clear answer one way or another. 

“Okay.” Better to just take the win and call it a day, she decided, amused that she’d learned that from Spencer’s poker shows. “Good night.” 

Aria reached over to pull the lamp chain again, and the room fell dark and quiet. What they both needed was rest. The new year would come with or without them. 

She exhaled deeply and let her eyes fall shut, willing her mind to slow to a simmer and just let her slip away. The cramps hadn’t returned, and her sinuses were clearing, so Aria trusted she’d feel even better in the morning if she could pull a solid eight hours or so. That would depend on her cough, of course, and if—

“I love you,” Spencer whispered.

That pulled Aria back from the brink of sleep. “I love you, too.”

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

“You’re welcome.” Aria then added, “Thank you for staying with me tonight.”

“Mmhmm.” Spencer’s words came even more slowly now as she fought against the drowsiness pulling her under. “I like being with you.”

Aria smiled. It was nice to hear, no matter the circumstances. “Me, too.”

“You’re my person,” Spencer said. 

“You’re _my_ person.” 

The room fell silent again, Spencer’s tender emotions now appeased, and Aria began to drift away into visions of her unpublished novel and a movie she saw recently and Hanna’s—

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Spencer’s voice cracked a little, letting the vulnerability show through. The truth serum had done its job, and they both knew how sincerely she meant it.

Aria opened her eyes, even though she couldn’t see much. She turned over onto her side, facing Spencer, and reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. She could just see enough of an outline in the moonlight to get it right. “Well, the good news is you’ll never have to find out.”

“You promise.” It wasn’t a question.

“I promise.” Aria let the sentiment hang in the air between them for a moment, then added, “I need you, too, you know. I don’t wanna do all this alone, either.”

After an augmented pause, Spencer faintly hummed, _“Mmm.”_

It felt like the sleepovers back in high school, when one of the girls would have her over and they’d stay up all night talking in the dark until someone fell asleep. There was so much to say back then—endless hours of conversation getting to know each other and discovering the world (and themselves) together. Now, all these years later, she’d be hard-pressed to find something she and Spencer didn’t know about each other. 

But she’d missed this, closing out the world around them to create a pocket of the universe that was just theirs, suspended in time. The physical spaces they carved out together were special too, of course—the first apartment they sublet in Rosewood before moving abroad, the guest room in Melissa’s flat they shared (snugly) for a month, and now their own place here in Pimlico—and stood as a sign of their commitment to each other. There was no one Aria would rather make coffee for in the morning, no one Spencer would rather see when she came home from work, and no one else either of them could bear to be around day after day after day with little reprieve. 

Even at their most playful and sarcastic, their interactions always came from love, and they said it daily—sometimes in words, sometimes with a hug or a small token from the shops, sometimes in an action so grand as to move to a new continent together, or something as small as a tendril sweetly tucked behind an ear. Aria had never known a deeper love in her life.

She snuggled deeper into the pillow, happy to sleep lying on her side after all if it meant she was closer to her friend. She ran her fingernails through Spencer’s hair, helping her into slumberland just like Spencer’d done for her earlier that night. 

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Spencer Hastings,” she whispered ever so quietly, and wasn’t surprised to not receive a reply.

Spencer dozed softly beside her, mouth open as she breathed in a gentle whistle, and Aria smiled once more, her heart full as ever. It didn’t matter that Spencer hadn’t heard her declaration—she already knew.

With a long exhale, Aria released what remained of the stress and the joy and the labors of the long year from her lungs and let her heavy eyelids fall closed, content in the knowledge that she would wake in a new year beside her old friend in the life that they had built together—this life they had _chosen_ together. And there wasn’t anything in the world she could’ve wanted more.


End file.
